


Honey

by LittleIdazle



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 17:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleIdazle/pseuds/LittleIdazle
Summary: Chloe has a bad day and her attempts to be a nicer person goes down the drain, much to her horror, but it's nothing a little bit of honey can't fix.





	Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I actually wrote this before season 2 came out, though I did change the butler's name from Pierre to Jean.

Chloe chewed on her fingernail, frustrated and fed up with the onslaught on yawns getting in the way of doing her hair. Her makeup failed to hide the dark circles under her eyes and it was far too early for anybody in their right mind to be awake, but sleeping wasn't option. She gave up long ago and decided to get a head start on getting ready for school, though sleep deprivation wouldn't let anything go her way.

 

She sighed, letting go of her hair and flinging her pony tail across room, deciding she could go one day without putting it up. She looked at her phone to check the time and scrunched up her nose at how few minutes had passed. It was 5:49 am, still far too early.

 

Brushing out the ends of her hair, she called her butler, Jean, to bring her breakfast. She knew it wouldn't be anything big and fancy as the staff still had another eleven minutes until they started cooking, but she didn't care. She'd take anything to silence the begging of her stomach.

 

Jean whipped something up and made it to her door in barely ten minutes, which Chloe appreciated, he was one of the few competent employees. He opened the door after knocking twice and once more, a familiar pattern she came to recognize. She didn't know why he did it, maybe just to let her know who it was.

 

“You're supposed to wait until I say 'come in', Jean.” she grumbled through the pillow she buried her face in. Makeup was likely to get on it, but she couldn't care less in that moment.

 

“You knew it was me.” he replied as the door shut softly.

 

“You lack manners.”

 

“If your current position is anything to go by, Mademoiselle, as do you.”

 

Chloe brought her face up to glare at him, not bothering to sit up and fix her sprawled out limbs, “You also lack respect.”

 

“And you lack breakfast.” he chuckled, bringing down a tray with a simple plate of scrambled eggs and a honey glazed croissant.

 

Chloe stared into the meal and the memories accompanying it. Only one person ever made such a breakfast for her before, and she wasn't surprised that Jean ended up being the second. With a fleeting glance to the calender filled with her scribbled handwriting on every date except one, she replied, “If you think bringing me a pathetic breakfast will make me feel better, you're wrong.”

 

“You haven't slept.” he ignored her comment.

 

“You don't say.” her voiced dripped with sarcasm.

 

His face remained blank, but she knew him. She knew what he wanted to say and how he was trying to help. He knew she wasn't displeased with the breakfast he made for her, he practically raised her, after all, but she didn't want to think about it.

 

“It's been years, that's not even what I'm losing sleep over.”

 

His silence urged her to continue. She wasn't being completely honest, but she wasn't lying either. It wasn't exactly something anyone would tell their butler, but she wasn't just anyone and he wasn't just her butler.

 

She relented with a huff of breath, taking a bite out of her honey croissant, “It's a boy.”

 

“Adrien?”

 

“I wouldn't lose sleep over him. He's my best friend, you know that.”

 

Jean was good at hiding his feelings, but not good enough, especially around her. His lips were twitching up into a grin and his eyes twinkled. Not a happy or excited grin. No, he was amused.

 

“You find this funny?” she crossed her arms.

 

He choked on a laugh, “You're always so sure of yourself, Mademoiselle, a bit too confident for your own good, but now you're wracked with exhaustion all because a boy is on your mind.”

 

“It's not just that!” she argued, “I'm not such a love sick puppy that I'm up all night swooning from just the thought of him. He just-” she took a deep breath, “He doesn't like me. Like, at all.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah! Can you believe it? Me, Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of the mayor, beautiful and desired by all can't get a boy to notice how amazing I am.”

 

She expected Jean to laugh once more, but he remained quiet, the churning of his mind permeating his features. She figured he was gathering his words to give her a piece of wisdom, so she waited, knowing better than to tell him she didn't want advice.

 

“So a normal boy?”

 

“Not among the rich and powerful if that's what you're asking.”

 

Jean placed a hand on her shoulder, a cautious look in his eyes, “Maybe you should try something. . . different to make him realize that you aren't as bad as he thinks.”

 

“What kind of different?” she squinted at him skeptically.

 

“You could be a bit nicer to him.”

 

“Is my presence not enough?”

 

“Sometimes people need more.” he said softly.

 

Chloe paused before her face hardened and she suddenly lost her appetite. Seeming to realize what he accidentally insinuated, he opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

 

“I'm not feeling very hungry anymore. You can take this away now.” she pushed the tray back towards him, settling with looking out the window with an icy expression.

 

Jean bit back a sigh and took the nibbled on eggs away. “Have a good day at school, Chloe.” he said before leaving.

 

Chloe looked back at the calender, the blank spot taunting her. She checked the time.

 

6:34 am.

 

-

 

Chloe took the long way to school, not being able to handle the bustle of the staff's morning that muffled her thoughts. The long way wasn't really all that long, but it gave her a chance to let Jean's suggestion sink in.

 

Be a bit nicer? She wasn't the sweetest person to just anyone, she would admit, but she really did consider it.

 

He was someone special to her, though she couldn't place how or when it happened exactly. She just looked at him one day and oh, okay then. He was suddenly attractive and his shyness wasn't all that annoying anymore, his drawings and comics were less ridiculous and more intriguing.

 

It was foreign to think of anyone romantically other than Adrien, but he was distancing himself from her. He would always be her Adrikins, but it was clear that there was someone else in his life. As much as she disapproved of Marinette, she would deal with it if she made him happy. Adrien was moving on in life, it was time she did, too. She just didn't expect it to come in the form of jade eyes and a mop of bright red hair.

 

Could she put her pride aside and be nicer to him? She could certainly try.

 

Chloe turned the corner and was met with a large crowd, likely people trying to make it to work on time, but someone in the crowd wearing a tacky, red Hawaiian shirt caught her eye. The old man had likely been bumped into and fell over. He struggled to get a grasp on his cane and stand back up, but no progress was being made. People kept on walking, ignoring the poor man.

 

Chloe was going to walk away, but she remembered something her father told her a long time ago when she asked him why he was reading his speech so much: “You'll never be able to do something well if you never practice.”

 

When he told her that, she took it to heart. She practiced doing her hair and applying liquid eyeliner, she practiced the art of manipulation and deception, how to get what she wanted when she wanted it. She practiced a lot, and she got good at those things.

 

If she wanted Nathaniel to realize how great and nice she was, then she'd have to practice.

 

Chloe lifted her head up high and strode confidently into the street where the man was still struggling. People immediately recognized her and parted like the red sea, which made her ooze with pride. She picked the man's cane up and hefted him to his feet, plastering a smile on her face, “Are you okay?”

 

The man's face lit up and he thanked her, commenting on how kind she was with something resembling approval. She smiled, genuinely this time, telling him it was no problem and to be careful. She was going to leave after shaking his hand, but then he hummed and looked at his fingers, “You like honey?”

 

Chloe pressed her fingers together and felt a slight stickiness from her breakfast. Her face flushed and she held back the urge throw an insult at him (it wasn't like he was attacking her by mentioning the honey, her mind added).

 

“I've always liked honey, I guess I just forgot to wash my hands.”

 

The old man smiled, nodding and walking away without a word. If Chloe had not been trying to be nice, she would've made sure he knew how weird he was acting and how creepy he was with all his observations and nodding.

 

She didn't say a word though, she just continued her way to school and silently cursed her sticky hands.

 

By the time she walked into the classroom, her hair was a frizzy mess. Summer was well on its way and it was doing her no favors. Her hair was her most treasured featured and it pained her that she slacked that morning.

 

It was still fairly early to be at school, so the the room was empty save for Max and Sabrina. The ginger at her side began talking immediately, and Chloe didn't mind it too much. She didn't really have anything to say that morning, so she was content with listening to Sabrina's rambling, though it was mostly white noise to her.

 

“Oh. . .” Sabrina trailed off, catching Chloe's attention, “Your hair.”

 

She sighed, “I know, the humidity is horrible today. Just one little walk and it's messed up.”

 

“No, I mean, it's down. I've never seen it like that.”

 

She touched the blonde locks that cascaded down her shoulders, “I thought I'd try something new,”

 

“It suits you.”

 

Of course it did, Chloe thought, anything suited her. She didn't say that out loud though, deciding to take Sabrina's compliment and leave it at that. It was still frizzy though.

 

As time passed, more students steadily trickled in and it wasn't long before Adrien came in, too, though she wasn't expecting him to come hand in hand with Marinette. Everybody's eyes immediately went to their intertwined fingers and they blushed like middle schoolers learning about the reproductive system.

 

“It's about time.” She heard Kim snicker which was followed by Alya shrieking. Marinette ended up taking Nino's seat to avoid Alya's stream of questions, though it was obviously because she wanted to sit by Adrien. So for the rest of the class, Chloe got a good peripheral view of their constant flirting and sneaked kisses. It was sickening and grating on her nerves.

 

Sure, she liked Nathaniel, but it still stung a bit. She tried to get a look at the boy, but he was hidden behind his notebook. She brought her focus back to the front, feeling her patience dwindling by the second.

 

-

 

Fuming. She was fuming. If she had known one little hair change would prompt one brave student to talk to her, bumping into her and making her phone shatter on the floor, she would've taken the time to put it up. She managed not to screech at Rose, only forcing out an 'it's okay' and 'don't let it happen again' through gritted teeth. Everybody had been shocked at her response, clearly expecting something much worse. Marinette looked ready to jump in and fight if need be, and that made Chloe want to lash out even more.

 

Chloe had made a quick exit in order to contain herself.

 

_Be nice. Be nice._ Her mind chanted, but it wasn't working. She wanted to rip someone's head off and then sue them for getting blood on her clothes. She wanted to spit out every hateful word in the French dictionary and make sure they knew how much of a waste of space they were, but she didn't. Not only was she actually trying, but giving in to the temptation would only prove to Nathaniel that everything he thought about her was right.

 

He better be worth it.

 

Chloe found an empty classroom to reside in. The moment she stepped in she just stopped and breathed for a good five minutes. She was tired. She got absolutely no sleep, her hair was frizzy and tickling her cheeks, her phone was destroyed, Marinette was an imbecile (nothing new there), Adrien was on his way of joining her in that description, and throughout all this, she was holding back.

 

There was a tiger on a her tongue, clawing at her lips and begging for them to open so it could release a mighty roar and demolish anything in its path. It was still there, prickling and clawing at her instead. She could hardly stand it.

 

Chloe took one last breath and looked up, noticing an easel sitting in the back of the room. The painting, though only halfway done, was breathtaking. It wasn't hard to make out what it was supposed to be; the Eiffel Tower in all of its glory, glistening in the night and outshining the moon and all the stars. Chloe couldn't help but think that the actual thing wasn't nearly as gorgeous as the painting. Then there was the focus, a silhouette with twin tails and a suit of spots. Even more breathtaking than the tower.

 

Chloe went to step forward and get a closer look at it, but the door swung open and someone slammed into her, sending them both flying to the floor as bursts of paint exploded between them. Next thing she knew, she was covered in red, blue, and black. It stuck to her hair, sliding down onto her face and adding more color than necessary to her cheeks. It covered her outfit and made the cloth cling to her skin in the most uncomfortable way. It somehow got between her toes and in her teeth, making her want spit in the face of whoever did this to her.

 

Screw it! Nice was overrated, it was time to let the tiger loose. So she did. She opened her mouth and everything came flooding out. Her arms flailed ungracefully as she screamed every profanity she could think of, insulting them, their family, their art, anything they would ever live for, tearing apart their self-esteem. She didn't even know who it was, but she knew that after everything she said, they would wish they never crossed paths with Chloe Bourgeois.

 

 

It wasn't until she was out of breath that she stopped and finally took a look at the person in front of her, and she paled. Blood drained from her face and she wished that she could cradle every word she said and crush them in her hands. She wanted to take them back, go back in time and tell herself to be nice.

 

_Be nice. Be nice._

 

Chloe regretted ever opening her mouth when she saw glassy, tear filled jade eyes.

 

Nathaniel.

 

She tried, she really did, to say something and somehow fix the situation, but nothing escaped her throat. She already used all her words, there was nothing more to say, but so much she wanted to.

 

For the first time in her life, she wished she could say sorry, but before she could, he was gone. He ran down the hall, forgetting about the masterpiece in the corner or caring that he was covered in paint.

 

Chloe went home early that day. She walked out of the room, the school, into the streets and through the hotel. She didn't care that everyone was looking at her, and not in the good way. She didn't care that the paint was drying and making her hair clumpy and brittle. The only thing she cared about was getting up to her room and sleeping the whole disaster of a day away.

 

She fell face first onto her bed, but instead of comfort and warmth flooding her exhausted body, something hard jutted into her stomach. She groaned, grumbling about the lousy cleaning service. She rolled over onto her back.

 

She looked down at the blankets to see a black, hexagonal box with some red designs on it. It looked Chinese. Hoping her father had gotten her something to make her day better, she snatched it up and opened it. She was expecting a necklace, maybe a bracelet and some earrings, certainly not a flash of yellow light that momentarily blinded her.

 

Chloe threw the box down and covered her eyes, wondering the heck was inside. Her wondering was interrupted by laughter, loud yet ladylike all the same. She opened her eyes and saw a bug. A bug with big eyes and a cute laugh and it was a big freaking bug.

 

She screamed and fell backwards, inching away from the giant bee and trying to find it in her to run, call for help, lock herself in the bathroom and never come out, because bugs that big should not exist. Bugs that big should not be in her room, laughing and existing.

 

“Oh, honey. What happened to you?” the bug said.

 

Bugs shouldn't talk either.

 

-

 

“So what you're saying is. . .” Chloe looked at the bug, Pollen, with wide eyes as she towel dried her hair, “I'm gonna be a superhero?”

 

“Mhm,” Pollen nodded her head.

 

“Alongside Ladybug?”

 

“And the cat, yes.”

 

“I'm gonna be a superhero?”

 

Pollen rolled her eyes, “How many times are you going to ask that?”

 

Chloe ignored the kwami, placing a hand over her mouth in glee, “Me, Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of the mayor, loved and desired by all, and a superhero!” she squealed.

 

“Yes, but nobody can know. I'm sure you know the drill.”

 

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Chloe waved her hand, “So what does my outfit look like?”

 

Pollen zoomed up to her face, suddenly delighted to answer, “Do you wanna see? I've been perfecting it for centuries!”

 

“Centuries? It better be good then.”

 

The bee kwami scoffed, “It's better than good, what do you take me for?”

 

“You sure you're up to date with this generation?”

 

Pollen rolled her eyes, “Oh, you dumb honey bee, you don't know who you're talking to. Just say 'Transform me'.”

 

Chloe took a step in front of the mirror, taking a deep breath in before she repeated her kwami, “Transform me!” she called out enthusiastically and she was once again met with a brilliant light of yellow, but this time, it engulfed her body.

 

She wasn't sure how to feel about the strange sensation that washed over her, but she decided to relish in it, take it as it was with open arms.

 

Chloe opened her eyes and was pleased to see the colors she was adorned in. Black and yellow, just like a bee. It was a lot like Ladybug's with the skintight spandex, but she couldn't help but think she looked better.

 

She spent a good few minutes admiring her appearance and how well it suit her before her lips curved up with a thought, a nickname her mother used to call her before the woman walked out on them. She may have left a hole in Chloe's heart, but she still loved her mama.

 

“Honey Comb.” she murmured, “I'll be Honey Comb.”

 

Chloe decided that she wouldn't detransform, having a feeling Pollen wouldn't let her visit a certain someone.

 

If Nathaniel didn't like Chloe, maybe he'd like a taste of Honey.

 


End file.
